


The skater, the dancer, and the iced soy latte

by TheKeyOfHappiness



Series: The one where Willie is a skater boy and Alex does ballet [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex is a dancer, I wrote this on a whim, M/M, Pining, it's very short, skater/dancer AU, willie skates in front of the ballet studio where he trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKeyOfHappiness/pseuds/TheKeyOfHappiness
Summary: One was a skater boyOne did balletCan I make it any more obvious?or: Alex is a dancer who cares too much about what others think of him. Willie makes him laugh.
Relationships: Alex & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: The one where Willie is a skater boy and Alex does ballet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053239
Comments: 15
Kudos: 182





	The skater, the dancer, and the iced soy latte

One _was a skater boy_  
_One did ballet_  
_Can I make it any more obvious?_

The bell on the door rings lightly when Alex steps into his favorite coffee shop, breathing in the scent of fresh-pressed coffee beans and enjoying the chatter over the guitar of a hipster-y song playing over the speakers. It’s a sunny day, Alex already did his cardio and he feels ready to face whatever grueling rehearsal Miss Lessa is going to put them through. Nothing can spoil his mood today; he’s on cloud nine

The bell rings again, and Alex’s mood plummets to the ground at rocket speed.

_NOT HIM AGAIN._

“Hey tip-toes,” Willie’s grin is bright and infectious and Alex wants to pirouette it off of his face with a high kick. “Early for practice?”

“Oh my God; are you following me?” Alex scowls, crossing his arms on the pink hoodie he wears over his training leggings. He cranes his neck to check how long the line to the counter is - there are thousands of coffee shops around LA, why did this punk, wannabe-Jacob from Twilight have to show up to Alex’s favorite place?

Willie’s smile doesn’t falter - for some reason, the nastier Alex is, the more he seems to enjoy it. Even since Willie ran Alex over with his skateboard in front of the ballet studio where he spends most of his days, the boy keeps springing up on him _everywhere_ : outside of the studio, at the park on Sundays, at his favorite coffee shop, in his dreams…

_No, definitely not that one. Scratch that._

“You look cute when you blush,” Willie smirks, because _of-fucking-course_ he noticed.

“I’m not blushing!” Alex retorts, “I’m just hot!”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“No, you’re irritating.”

“I think you like me.” Willie is getting awfully close to his personal space and Alex may or may not have forgotten how to breathe.

“I really, really don’t.” He whispers.

“Next!”

Alex is too busy taking in the scent of sandalwood shampoo that comes from Willie’s hair to notice that he has in fact reached the counter, and he’s holding up the line. Willie flicks his tongue over his bottom lip looking at Alex like he’s the tallest skateboard ramp in the park and he can’t wait to throw himself down at breakneck speed, and it makes Alex’s heart hammer against his ribcage.

“I said _next_!” The angry barista calls again, her numerous earrings dangling under a short blond bob.

Alex tears his eyes away from Willie and frantically scans the menu - _oh no, oh no, he hates this, everyone is going to hate him and shout at him and how is he going to get out of here with his drink_ …

“A caramel frappuccino with extra cream and cocoa, and an iced soy latte with two shots of espresso and no sugar.” Willie recites to the barista, slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. It’s balled up and filthy and all Alex can’t help but wonder how can it not fall out of his pocket when he skates.

_Willie knows your order and he just saved you from a fast-approaching panic attack._

“How do you know my order?” Alex says, while they move aside to let someone else pay. Willie shrugs, long hair falling off his shoulders. Alex should really stop thinking about running his fingers through it.

“I figured a dancer would want to stay low on carbs and sugar and high on caf, and here they have the best soy milk in the Strip.” Willie says, his half-smirk never leaving his mouth. Despite being torn between the desire to kiss him and the equally strong desire to slap him, Alex crosses his arms on his chest even tighter.

“Sure, go on,” Alex rolls his eyes, “Ask me how much you would have to pay me to make me eat a slice of cake or how sad my life is without pizza every two days.”

Willie’s eyes go very round, and he loses all the teasing.

“That’s not what I meant,” he sounds earnest and when he places a hand over Alex’s tightly winded arms, Alex doesn’t step back. It’s big and warm, and it feels nice. “You’re an athlete; it makes sense that you want to stay healthy. It’s like you’re greasing up your engine. Your body is your car and you have to, ehm, oil the gears to… to…”

Willie’s gestures are confused and he looks embarrassed and mortified for once, but Alex can’t help it: he doubles over, laughing harder than he’s ever done in quite a long time.

“Stop it,” Willie bumps their shoulders together lightly, and when he grabs both of their drinks from the counter, Alex follows him on instinct.

“Can you pass me my fuel please?” He snickers, holding a hand out for his cup of coffee, “I need to oil up.”

Willie complies and then proceeds to jump on a nearby low brick wall, much more gracefully than Alex had expected. He doesn’t even spill his drink.

They sit side by side, enjoying their drinks in silence as they watch the usual LA crowd speed by. Alex tries not to think about what his friends would say - Carrie had basically been inventing new words to insult Willie’s skating group whenever they saw them from the windows during one of their breaks between classes. Alex usually focuses on practicing his arabesques so he doesn’t have to participate in those mocking sessions.

There are hundreds of reasons why he shouldn’t spend time with Willie. He’s a skater, which is basically another word for junkie. Alex goes to one of the most prestigious ballet schools in Los Angeles; he has no time to waste on a boy who literally _made an attempt on his life_ and gives him stomachache whenever he so much as breaths in his direction.

The touch of Willie’s shoulder on Alex’s is light this time, feather-like. He’s noticed that Alex is deep in thought, and instead of noisily barging into his mind like he usually does, Willie is asking for permission to be let in. Like he’s walking on his tip-toes.

“Are you okay?” Willie asks. His usual smile his back, but his eyes are soft and attentive.

“Yeah,” Alex clips his lips together because he doesn’t trust himself not to say something really stupid like, _I want you to kiss me, but I’m too much of a coward._

“Think we could do this again?” Willie asks, and unless Alex is very much mistaken, there’s a note of nervousness in his voice.

“This?”

“Yeah, like, grab a coffee, talk…”

“You mean like…?” Alex cuts himself off because the word _date_ weighs heavy on his tongue and he swallows it back down. His heart is back on its mission to demolish his ribcage from within.

“Yeah, if you want.”

It’s almost two thirty, he’s about to be late for practice and he can see the girls’ sparkly gym bags shimmering under the LA sun from across the street. Willie’s waiting for an answer and Alex feels it press against his throat, against his chest, stretching through every inch of his skin to come out.

He springs to his feet.

“I gotta go,” he says, looking away just as Willie’s face falls, the skater boy unable to hide his disappointment. “Thanks for the coffee.”

And he runs, no grace in his step, no coordination in his movements. He doesn’t look back and sprints all the way to the studio, stopping to catch his breath only when he’s three stories up, and sitting on the bench outside the main room, the last one to arrive.

“Are you alright, Alex?” Carrie inquires, staring him up and down.

“Yeah.” For the second time in less than five minutes, Alex lies.

He’s not alright, and it’s his own fault. He keeps running away from Willie and he can’t keep telling himself he’s doing it because he finds him annoying.

He’s doing it because he’s terrified of the way Willie makes him feel.

Eventually, Willie will get tired of chasing after him and he’ll realize Alex is just a boring, scared coward who will never even admit to his feelings. He’ll leave, and Alex will breathe again.

Alex peeks out of the window: across the street, a skateboard in his left hand and a paper coffee cup in the other, Willie is looking up at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim after spending too many days watching Julie and the Phantoms on a loop. Avril Lavigne crossed my mind and boom, this thing came out.  
> Beta-read by wonderful [itsjuliemolina](https://itsjuliemolina.tumblr.com).  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
